Blank Page

A blank page stares at you with its absence of eyes. It’s like fresh snow, free from the trampling of passers-by. All you want is to put your mark in the snow, but you know that once you step on the uncharted patch it will be gone forever. Its beauty instantly gone, unrepairable.
But the page that stares at you can be fixed, or replaced. You could easily erase your markings or just click backspace. Yet you still feel that same fresh snow feeling.
So you sit, and wait. You let words flow inside your head and try to imagine them like waterfalls, falling to place at the bottom. But instead they smash into the rocks at the bottom and fall apart. You close your eyes and tightly wish for any words at all to come together. Just one string of words. You know that is all you need to begin your next adventure, but suddenly every moment feels like hours. You hope and wait and listen, but instead of dialogue or a coffee shop all you can hear is your own heart beat. Each beat of it just begging to be heard. Slowly it gets louder and faster, eventually it is so loud that you begin to worry that your skull might break. That your head will just shatter to a million pieces right there. And your existence would just fade away with it, that that would be your end. Then, as if casted my a magical fairy, all of those thoughts and your heart beat fade away and you it. You see the words, the sentence, the idea, just forming in your head. And with that you leap into the blank snow and you begin making snow angels, one after another. Your confidence soars with each new letter, and you know, deep inside that beating heart of yours, that this next adventure shall surely be your greatest.